


His Hugh-ge Secret

by Aetherios



Category: Scrubs (TV)
Genre: Bad Puns, Daydreaming, Doctor Cox is secretly in love with Hugh Jackman, Getting Together, Humor, Kissing, M/M, One Shot, Pining, Rants, Sexual Humor, and JD is not-so-secretly in love with Doctor Cox, what could go wrong?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:00:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29558091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aetherios/pseuds/Aetherios
Summary: When JD finds out about Doctor Cox's secret obsession with Hugh Jackman, he devises the ultimate plan to seduce his mentor.
Relationships: Perry Cox/John "JD" Dorian
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20
Collections: JDox





	His Hugh-ge Secret

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chaoskitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaoskitten/gifts).



> Yes, I wrote this story just so I could use that pun in the title, and no, I do not regret it. Not one bit.

It was an honest accident.

JD had just finished his and Turk’s _World’s Most Giant Doctor_ act of the day and needed to stash his giant lab coat in the one place the Janitor couldn’t get his hands on it: The Chief of Medicine’s office.

JD takes out the bit of wire he nicked from the supply closet and turns it into the keyhole, smiling when the lock clicks open. He’s getting good at this. Almost as quick as a ninja this time.

_A ninja suit-clad JD drops to the floor from an open panel in the ceiling, landing perfectly on all fours. “And she sticks the landing,” he proclaims._

_“I’d stick_ _**that**_ _landing,” he hears a voice snicker. He turns to see The Todd pointing a gun at him, wearing nothing but a banana-hammock and a police hat._

“I’d have to get a bullet-proof ninja costume next time,” he says aloud. He turns the handle of the door and pushes it open, looking down the hallway to make sure Doctor Cox isn’t nearby. When he deems the coast clear, he enters the office, stopping to take a moment to breathe in the scent of something distinctly father-figurely.

Something musky, and strong, and _masculine._

Alright, maybe not all that father-figurely.

He heads to the far-side closet and stuffs the lab coat inside, hiding it under a few of the hospital pillows Kelso stole for himself back when he was Chief. JD frowns as he wonders why the pillows are still there. The whole room is just as Kelso left it, really, barren of all personal embellishments and mementos.

JD looks down at his watch to see that there are still a good ten minutes before Doctor Cox would finish his rounds with the new interns. That’s enough time to do a little investigating.

_JD walks onto the crime scene and crouches, dragging his finger through the blood on the floor to peer at it through a magnifying glass. “Who dunnit?” he asks._

_“I’d do **that** ,” The Todd says from behind him, naked except for a banana-hammock, smoking an ancient-looking pipe. _

‘We’d have to make sure we don’t leave any fingerprints on the furniture,” JD says before shaking his head. He walks around the office, pulling out drawers and inspecting some of the rare personal items he comes across.

A picture of Jack next to his nameplate. A Red Wings coffee mug on the corner of the desk. A few private medical journals in the first drawer. JD has pretty much given up hope on finding out something interesting about his mentor that they could _finally_ bond over when he opens the last drawer.

There’s a stack of magazines inside — _dirty_ magazines — which doesn’t really come as a surprise to him. Doctor Cox is a man, after all. And he probably has urges. Urges that he might do something about. JD gulps.

What _does_ surprise him, though, is after shuffling through the first couple of magazines, he finds that the scarcely-clad cover ladies morph into something else.

And that something is Hugh Jackman.

JD’s eyes widen as he comes face-to-face with picture after picture of Hugh Jackman in various states of undress, his arms and chest slathered in oil and body struck in poses to show off tantalizing muscles. JD takes out one of the magazines and sinks into the chair behind him to flip through the pages, the fact that he only has limited time forgotten.

That is, until the deafening slam of the office door. His eyes snap up to see Doctor Cox leaning against the door frame, looking at the playgirl magazines spread across his desk with an amused raise of his brow.

“Well, isn’t this just precious, Tiffany,” he begins. This could not possibly end well.

“Look, I know you just got back from that sleepover and saw one of your best gal-pals change into her night shorts in front of you, and I get that you still feel a bit tingly _down there_. And just to make absolutely _sure,_ you wanted to experiment with your new-found lesbianism and look at some of the dirty magazines you found in your mom’s bedside drawer when you were just a wee little girl, and I get that, Sheila, I _do,_ but does it re-he-he- _heally_ have to be in my office? I mean, for the love of _God_ —”

Doctor Cox’s eyes travel down the magazine JD’s currently holding in his hand, and he promptly shuts his mouth.

Finally gathering his senses, JD lets go of the magazine and jumps out of his mentor’s chair as if it physically burned him. “Hey, Doctor Cox, I’m going to be on-call in about five minutes so I should really go,” he says, bolting for the door.

Of course, Doctor Cox is standing right at the door and takes hold of the collar of JD’s blue scrubs shirt, pinning him to the closest wall. JD probably should have planned that escape better. Not that much of a ninja now, huh, J-Dizzle?

_JD bows before The Todd, the man’s long white beard touching the ground in front of him. “You have disappointed me, JD-san. You can no longer be a ninja.”_

_He snaps his fingers and JD’s black ninja suit disappears, revealing a banana-hammock underneath. “But we can continue to train in the art of hittin’ **that**!” he shouts, pointing to a kimono-clad Ted at the side of the room, waving an oriental fan at his sweaty forehead._

_“You don’t think this kimono would attract the ladies, do you?”_

“The green really does bring out Ted’s eyes,” JD practically chokes out.

Doctor Cox’s grip tightens around his collar. “Here’s the thing, Caroline: I have no need nor ah- _heh-_ ny desire to know about whatever fantasy you’re lost in right now, but here’s what I do need to know. I don’t care how much you need to catch the gals up on the latest gossip, because this little detail about _my_ life is not to leave this room, capiche?”

JD barely manages a nod, wheezing, “Yes, sir, Cox, sir.”

Doctor Cox growls, losing his hold on the shirt. JD stumbles a bit and tilts his head up to look at the man, debating whether or not he should ask the question that’s been floating in his head since he saw those magazines.

He figures Doctor Cox saw the look in his eyes because he sighs, pinching his fingers between his brows. “Any questions before we wind up rounds for today, Veronica?”

“So you’re into oiling?” he asks, “Because I personally think it’s a bit—”

“No, no, _nooo, bad_ Newbie,” Doctor Cox says, swatting him with his clipboard and pushing him out of the office. “Go on, get!”

The door slams behind him and JD frowns, bending over to retrieve the wire he used to pick the lock. He’s about to tuck it into his pocket when a sopping wet mop lands on the floor in front of him.

“What’s that in your hand, Scooter?” the Janitor asks. JD looks up to see the man’s eyes fixed on the wire in JD’s hand. “Are you trying to jam the door with that?”

“What?” His brows furrow. “No, why would I even want to do that?”

The Janitor considers him for a moment. “If I see that door jammed tomorrow, you’re going to pay,” he warns, giving JD one last scrutinizing glare before going back to his mopping.

JD scurries away, his hands protecting the back of his scrubs pants just in case the Janitor decides he has to pay today.

But he grins a little. JD has plans for tomorrow, and none of them include jamming a door.

* * *

“Bambi, do you smell that?” Carla asks from her seat behind the nurse’s counter the next day, her hands shuffling through a filing cabinet. JD looks up from the medical history chart he’s reviewing and leans forward, sniffing dramatically.

“Do you mean that blend of tangy citrus and a _fresh summer breeze?”_ he asks, his voice lilting for effect. “Nope, can’t smell it at all.”

Carla gives him a quizzical look but goes back to filing.

He's about to return to his charts when he hears a muttered 'Frick!' from behind him. He turns to see Elliot heading towards them, hands desperately trying to unknot a clump of hair from a button of her private practice lab coat. She stops mid-way, taking a deep breath, her eyebrows scrunching up.

“Why does it smell like Keith’s citrus body oil?” she asks, just as Carla says, “Why are your arms so shiny today, Bambi?”

Caught. JD hides his oiled-up arms behind him, eyes darting around for the quickest escape route. Time for his ninja stealth moves.

_JD hops onto the counter and does a backflip over Elliot’s head. He throws three ninja stars in quick succession and they slice right through Elliot and land in Carla’s chest. He does a handspring over the two fallen bodies and lands right in front of The Todd._

_“I could give you a hand with **that** spring_, _” he says, holding his hand up for a high-five._

A sharp whistle pierces through his daydream and JD looks up to see Doctor Cox stalking down the hallway, his eyes fixed on the clipboard in his hands. “Heel, Newbie!” he barks.

“I have to admit, he’s pretty creative with his innuendos,” JD mutters as he catches up to the other man’s stride.

“In _your_ endo!” the real Todd shouts from the end of the hall.

Doctor Cox shakes his head, slamming his clipboard into JD’s chest. “Miss Edwards, twenty-one, Cardiomyopathy. I’ve already got her on inhibitors and diuretics.”

JD’s eyes scan the charts as they stop outside room 301. “Why’d you need me if she’s already on treatme— ohh.” _Defibrillation._ Ouch. That was a painful process.

“I hate to have to ask you for help here, Carol, but it looks like the feminine wiles you read about in the latest edition of Cosmo might just be of some use today. Go charm her up a bit so I can deliver the news.”

_Quick, say something smooth to show him just how charming you can be!_ JD tilts his head up to look at the other doctor, his eyes wide and bright. “You think I’m charming?”

Doctor Cox snarls and pushes past him into the room, leaving JD to follow him dejectedly. Damn it. What did yesterday’s _Cosmopolitan_ say the difference between a smoldering gaze and a puppy dog look was again?

“Hi, Miss Edwards,” JD greets the woman lying on the hospital bed. She’s so young. “I’ve heard that your pulse rate has been spiking up. But that’s okay, people’s hearts tend to beat a bit faster when they see me,” he says. That earns him a giggle from the woman and a snort from Doctor Cox.

“But here’s the thing, Miss Edwa— Marcia." JD sighs, his voice going low. "Your heart isn’t responding to the inhibitor well, and if there’s a sudden change of pace in your heartbeat, there could be some complications.”

“What Newbie is saying here is that we’ll need to place a defibrillator to monitor your heart movements and keep them in check,” Doctor Cox cuts in. “Now I understand your mother wasn’t able to make it today, but you can call her now and talk about the transplant. We’ll give you some privacy.”

The woman’s eyes water but she nods, picking up a flip-phone from the table beside her. JD extends his hand to her, squeezing her forearm before turning around to leave.

He sees Doctor Cox’s brow furrow as his stare follows JD's arm and lets out a small _‘_ eep’ before he runs out of the room and down the hallway. What was he thinking when he planned this out again?

He’s _this_ close to reaching the on-call room when he slips across the floor and lands on his back. He opens his eyes to see the Janitor leaning over him, holding a 'wet floor' sign. “Think before you jam the door next time, Scooter,” he says, then looks up and salutes, “Angry Doctor.”

JD brings himself to his feet, debating whether or not it would be a good idea to try and make a run for it again, but Doctor Cox grabs the back of his scrubs shirt first with a growled “Not so fast, Newbie” and drags him into the on-call room.

JD sighs, letting himself be pinned to the wall by the man for the second time in two days. “Tell me, Clarabelle,” Doctor Cox says, his face dangerously close to JD’s, “I know you’re a sensitive gal and you get emotional about these things, but tell me you didn’t _cry_ all over your arms to make them that damp.”

“The Janitor… poured mop water on me?”

“Really? Because it looks and smells an awful lot like that body oil Barbie’s very own Ken-doll bathes himself in every day.” JD is pushed further into the wall and he winces, his back throbbing painfully from his fall.

Doctor Cox seems to realize this because he lets go of JD’s shirt and sighs, “Why are you covered in body oil, Newbie?”

JD ponders over it for a moment. “Hugh Jackman is a very inspiring man.”

Doctor Cox's eyes narrow into slits. Wrong thing to say.

“I mean, it turns out oiling isn’t that bad. It’s— It's shiny! The sheen really defines my muscles,” JD shrugs. Doctor Cox raises a brow at that. “The few muscles I actually have.” His lips quirk up in a smirk. “I was— No, you know what? I don’t mind my doughy physique! Some girls actually like a bit of flesh on the thighs,” JD says, giving his hips a little shimmy against his better knowledge.

Doctor Cox rolls his eyes and opens his mouth, and JD mentally prepares himself for a patented Perry Cox-rant. Probably something along the lines of _Cynthia, I, for one, completely support the whole body-positivity movement you got going there, I really do. I think it’s just so darn_ _**cute** that you’re trying to support that chubby gal you wanted to ask to prom in junior year but were too scared of what the mean boys would think. _

"Ya know, Newb, I can appreciate oil on a ‘doughier physique' as you so generously called it too."

Now _that_ JD didn’t expect. He isn't even sure if he heard correctly, so JD just stands there, waiting for Doctor Cox to whistle sharply or snarl or do _something_ he can remotely understand.

Mercy, as always, comes in the form of a girl’s name.

“Let me give it to you straight, Shelly. I’m not going to talk about how you make my long-dead heart go pit-a-pat in my chest when you sashay into a room or whatever other school-girl fantasies you regularly indulge in, but you’ve somehow wormed your appletini-chugging, giggly-gaggly, mousse-haired self into my life, and for some inexplicable reason, I don’t _entirely_ hate it.”

JD’s trying to convince himself that he’s just hearing what he wants to hear and that in reality, Doctor Cox is just expressing his hatred for him again. But he fails, and his eyes fall to the man’s lips before he can help himself.

Doctor Cox takes a step forward, bringing his hands to grip either of JD’s forearms. JD whimpers.

Yep. This is it. Doctor Cox was messing with him, but JD went and took him seriously.

And now he’s going to be strangled to death.

JD’s about to drift off into a daydream about how he can escape — probably something with ninjas and banana-hammocks, since that seems to be the theme of the week — but before he can, Doctor Cox says, “Tell me if I’m reading this wrong, Newbie.”

And then he kisses him. Doctor Cox _kisses_ him.

It doesn’t take long for JD to respond, fingers curling into the man’s lab coat to pull him even closer. He’s almost completely sure that this is some sort of extension of the escape fantasy, something his mind conjured in wishful thinking, because Doctor Cox, _Perry_ _Cox_ , couldn’t possibly be kissing him like this. Like he’s pouring his very being into JD through the sole contact of their lips.

JD breaks away from the kiss, panting as he looks Doctor Cox in the eye. “How do I know that you’re being serious? That you’re even _you_ , and not some sort of… of imposter doctor or something?”

_Imposter Doctor. That would be a cool title for a screenplay._

“Trust me, Newbie, I can give you a whole list of things I treat less seriously than this.” Lists. Yeah, this was definitely Doctor Cox. “Hmm, let’s see, low-carb diets, Michael Moore, the Republican National Convention, Kabbalah, and all Kabbalah-related products, hi-def TV, the Latin Grammys, the real Grammys, and _oh,_ Hugh Jackman _winning_ a Grammy—”

JD snorts. “You’d be _ecstatic_ if Hugh Jackman won a Grammy. The magazines would have a field day.”

“Shut it, Sharon,” Doctor Cox practically growls.

“I still can’t believe you have a thing for Hugh Jackman. I mean, you’ve told us for _years_ that you—”

Doctor Cox captures his lips again and JD decides that if this is what happens when he talks too much, he’s never shutting up again.

Oh, and the body oil. He’s totally buying himself a bottle.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this story, please consider leaving a comment or [reblogging this](https://aethxrios.tumblr.com/post/643708476656336896/his-hugh-ge-secret) on tumblr!


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